Before,
I would have cried
at my desk, spewed
paragraphs of hurt
into green text bubbles,
told you that I didn’t care,
that I was over you,
with your casual indifference,
and your selfishness
that borders on cruelty
at times. Then,
I would have called you,
once, twice, three times,
paced the hallways like
a fool, made excuses
in defense of you.
He’s just busy.
His job is new.
He’s got visa issues,
and he gets anxious
sometimes, as if that
gives you the right
to cast a shade over
my life. Why tell me
you love me if you
didn’t want
the responsibility?
Why remind me I’m
unhappy if you planned
to inflict more pain?
I expected more.
But I refuse
to go back
to
before.
Eh, I still cried at my desk a little bit. Heartbreak’s a bitch, but every day gets better. For more evidence of my very tenuous emotional state, check out this song, which I’ve listened to on repeat for ~12 hours in the last two days. I wish I was exaggerating.
Love & Light good people.
Cam
one black experience 